The Man _ E' Homber

[charlescroes]

I used to know him as “The Man That Lives in the Deep in the Rocky Rooi Crossing the Road of “Frenchman’s-Pass”. Now I know him as “Mr. Coffie-the Man That Lives Deep in the Rooi Crossing the Road of “Frenchman’s-Pass”. Sounds a bit similar doesn’t it? It is. If you are one of those souls that rents a 4X4 to trek hidden places, then you should do yourself a favor and take the following road (if it should be called that.)

Start at the Drive Inn and turn inwards away from the ocean. You will pass through a small populated area and then dip down into the salty flat which is from the Spaans Lagoon overrun on rainy days. When you are at just about the lowest point but have not yet reached the left hand turn to the Gold ruins, look to your right and you will see a road that heads off in to the right. It is lined with coral structures on each side. Saddle-(or buckle) up and turn to the right and follow the dirt road that soon becomes a very rocky path.

Continue down this road and you will finally come to a “Y” in the road - Take the left one and it will go upwards at a comfortable angle for about 30 feet. When you get to the top you will see a small white “Cunucu” house on the right hand side. Pull up and turn off your engine. Roll down the windows and wait.

If no-one comes to the door, start up the car - turn around and send me straight to hell – its’ OK. But .. if from inside there appears a frail and wispy man with 20-20 eyes that look like two black marbles on white sand, then you have struck it rich. If this happens, wait and see if he comes to the fence – this may take a while since he will walk about inside shirtless and looking out the many open windows when he passes them. All of this walking I have since found out is to select which of his three shirts he should wear and making sure his scraggy beard is perfectly scraggy. If he comes to the car, be a sincere because his instincts for fakers are incredible. Eventually he will exit his small ten by twenty foot house and will walk over to you. Humble would normally be a great description but in this case it goes beyond “Humble”.

His essence is one that comes from the pure joy that an elderly man has when the occasional visitor drops by. He is grateful to the visitor and has much to say and tell. Don’t interrupt – just listen as he shuffles through his yard and looks over his shoulder to see if you are still there. They are quick glances and small shuffles. His hands will be in a soft ball shape with the pointing finger pointing at whatever he decides to talk about.
"Mi ta Coffie"
My name is Coffiee
"Mi mundo a cambia"
My world has changed
"Hende no ta planta maishi rabu mas –paso’ tera a seca"
The people do not plant corn anymore – cause the earth is dry.
"Plantamento ta crece famiya di hende"
Planting grows the human family
"Ma biba den un tempu bon"
I lived in a good time

He also talks about food:

"Cumida por ta benenu"
Food can be poison
"No por kome tantu baca cu porko"
You cannot (should not) eat so much cow and pig
" Kome lo qual to bon pabo"
Only eat good foods
"No kome cos di tienda – trahe den kushine bo mes"
Don’t eat store bought items, make them youself in the kitchen
"Kome cos berde y fruta sin suku"
Eat green things and fruit without sugar

And then he might ask you to sign his small “Visitors Book”

His messages are simpler than but equally as true as the way he lives. It is a nice thing to know that such pure souls still breathe our island air and share it with us.

He asked me to sign the book. I was hot and did not have a pen. He shuffled into the kitchen and came out with a knife and a short pencil. Holding the knife blade between his knees with the sharp side up, he slid the pencil wood over it until he had an almost perfectly symmetrical pencil point.

I signed - he took the pencil stub and put it behind his ear. The procedure had ended.

I looked at him and marveled at the kindness on his face and then ... to throw me off, he opened his mouth and said
“Ma perde mi djentenan un par di aña pasa”
I lost my teeth a few years ago
“Pero na tabata bon bon”
But they were in good condition.

Then truly out of nowhere he says
“Mi tin cu drumi awo – danki pa e bishita”
I have to rest now but thank you for visiting.

We all piled into the car and watched the tiny green enamel painted windows to his small home shut one at a time. The sequence of their closing marked his steps inside.

We went home and rested a bit ourselves


be well
charles